


Angel Wings

by omgbubblesomg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Comforting Sam, Dean is a Prude, Distracting Sam, Hand Jobs, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Grace, M/M, POV Sam, Sastiel - Freeform, Wing Kink, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 21:10:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8939416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbubblesomg/pseuds/omgbubblesomg
Summary: Castiel's wings are glued together, blocking his grace. He doesn't want Sam to see him like this, but there's no choice.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The first time Sam sees Castiel’s wings.

The Winchesters were adepts at hunting monsters, but their skills were just as useful for finding missing angels. Less than a week passed from the moment they realised Castiel was missing to the moment they found the monster that had taken him. Sam had hardly slept the entire time, picturing his boyfriend with an angel blade in his belly, so that by the time he got to the cave he was frantic with fear and fury.

Luckily it wasn’t a rogue angel, or a demon on a killing spree. 

Sam let Dean take care of the thing - an awful conglomeration of mud and slime that hissed as Dean fired load after load of rock salt into its sludgy centre.

While Dean fought Sam ran to the back of the cave, almost tripping over Castiel in his hurry, mistaking him momentarily for a lumpy rock.

“Ssaamm?” Cas slurred, blinking up at him. Sam almost cried in relief, and fell to his knees beside the angel, who was naked and dirty and lying on an uncomfortable rock, but appeared to be otherwise unharmed.

“Yeah, baby. It’s me. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“So… tired…”

“We’re gonna take you back to the bunker, Cas, then you can sleep for as long as you want, I promise.”

“Tried to… fly…”

“It’s okay, Cas, baby, don’t worry, we’ve got you now.”

“It got me… got my wings.”

And then Sam noticed the feathers.

He had thought the ground was littered with dust and rocks, but when he reached out his fingers brushed a sticky pile of feathers and mud instead of solid ground.

“Cas…”

“It got m’wings, Sam…”

 _Holy shit_.

Cas wasn’t lying on a lumpy rock, the lumpy rock was _connected_  to him; two great big slabs moulding out from his back. 

“Cas, oh my god, what did it do to you?”

The angel didn’t respond, and Sam realised he had fainted.

They were wings, and they were  _huge_. Each slab easily taller than Castiel, and the span would probably be _enormous_ , once they unfolded. But in their current state they looked… pitiful. 

Dean blushed when Sam asked for help carrying the naked angel to the car, but Sam couldn’t lift him alone. Cas was usually a familiar weight in his arms, but not with the two gigantic, sticky  _wings_  weighing his boyfriend down too.

Later, once they had hauled Castiel back to the bunker, they got a closer look at the awful mess protruding from his back.

It was the consistency of frozen honey, or molten pitch. Horribly sticky and gelatinous. Dean thought it was a mixture of mud and ectoplasm, probably with a ghost origin, since the monster had been hurt by salt. Whatever it was had to be powerful, since it was obviously blocking the angel’s grace. And it was also kind of… sentient. It moved to cover holes, and sucked at their hands when they touched it. It was _malevolent_.

And it was _everywhere_.

They had to use their fingers, mostly. Painstakingly removing handful after handful to uncover the feathers beneath. Cas slept through the first few hours, thankfully, while the brothers uncovered the base of the wings where they jutted out from the angel’s shoulder blades.

Dean had put one of his albums on, and turned the volume up loud, and Sam was intensely grateful for the sound to distract from the squelching _ooze_  of the sticky wings, and from his boyfriend’s notable silence.

Sam had never seen Castiel sleep. Ever. But now the angel had his eyes closed and his chest was barely moving as he breathed. His skin had always been pale but a week in a cave had taken even the pink out of his cheeks.

He looked like a corpse.

Which was why Sam was so relieved when the angel gave a start and his eyes blinked open, about two hours after they had carried him into the bunker. He was facedown, wings erratically folded above him, and Sam had put a towel over his lower half (partly to protect his boyfriend’s modesty, but also to stop Dean blushing in embarrassment.)

“Don’t move, Cas. You’re at home. It’s just Dean and I here. Don’t move, okay?”

“My… my wings…”

“We’re working on them now, baby. We just uncovered the base, okay? Gonna have you free in no time. Twenty minutes, max.”

As if to prove Sam’s point, Dean scooped another handful of the thick mud off Castiel, at the joint where wing met flesh. The reaction was instant. Castiel arched, as though trying to escape Dean’s hands, and a scream clawed out of his throat. Dean jumped backwards, horrified.

“Cas! Cas!” Sam’s hands hovered, not quite touching,  not wanting to hurt him any further, even though he was literally _aching_  with the need to hold the angel close. “Cas! What happened?”

Castiel gasped into the floor, hands flat on the ground as though preparing to do a push up.

“Don’t move, Cas, please. We won’t touch you again, but please just… just don’t move. Your wings are too twisted.”

The muscles in his arms and back tensed, but he didn’t move. For a long moment there was no sound except Castiel’s heavy breathing and the familiar voice of Brian Johnson in the background.

Cas finally released the breath he’d been holding. “Dean,” he said slowly. “I appreciate your help but could you…” He breathed in again, muscles still tense. “I would prefer Sam’s assistance for the moment, thank you.”

“Right, okay, that’s cool, I’ll just ah…” He made a hasty retreat towards the door. “I’ll just be in the kitchen, if you need me.” The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Sam alone with his boyfriend.

“So, ah, what was that about?” Sam asked.

Cas took a moment to reply. “An angel’s wings are not meant to be touched by humans,” he finally said, stiffly. “Especially the base, where we can’t reach to protect ourselves.”

“Cas it’s… it’s just Dean.”

“Touching someone’s wings is… it is a very… _invasive_ feeling, Sam.”

Sam suddenly remembered a frat party at Stanford where he had seen some guys groping a drunk cheerleader. He felt sick. He had felt sick then, too, but this time he didn’t have an outlet to punch in the face.

“Cas,” he whispered. “We didn’t… we were just trying to help.”

Again, Castiel paused before replying. “It is forgiven.”

Sam lay down beside Castiel, rolling onto his side but being careful not to touch the angel anywhere. He made sure both his hands were in sight, and wriggled down slightly so Cas wouldn’t have to twist his neck to see him.

It seemed to calm Castiel down, slightly, and the muscles in his shoulders untensed.

“It is… unusual to allow a human to touch an angel’s wings but… Sam, I need your assistance.”

“Anything, Cas,” he whispered back.

Cas didn’t say anything for a long time. Sam could see the predicament. Touching the wings would be invasive and possibly painful, but Castiel would be unable to clean the feathers himself. He needed Sam’s help.

“I could call for help,” he offered. “Surely there’s another angel willing to-”

“No!”

Sam flinched.

“I don’t trust another angel, Sam. I trust you.”

Sam averted his eyes. “Cas, I-”

“Just… Just give me a moment to suppress my… my…”

“All the time you need, baby. I’m right here.”

“It’s- it’s not natural to leave oneself vulnerable. I don’t want to accidentally… hurt you… if I unintentionally react… when you…”

“Shh, Cas, it’s okay. I’ve got you. I have an idea.”

Sam shimmied closer to his boyfriend, then carefully took hold of his shoulders and rolled, manoeuvring him until he was lying facedown on top of Sam.

“Comfy?” Sam asked, a little breathlessly. His body remembered this position, and he sent a stern message to everything southwards that the familiar weight of Cas was _not_  the prelude to something exciting. He was hoping that it would instead make the angel more comfortable, and hopefully relax him enough for Sam to continue cleaning his wings.

He waited for Cas to nod before slowly sliding a hand up his arm, over his shoulder, and then down to the point where his skin changed texture. He carefully eased his fingers into the sticky mess he found there, and then just as slowly began to peel it away.

“Say something,” he said five minutes later, still slowly cleaning the gunk from Castiel’s wings.

The angel shivered. “I hope Dean isn’t aggrieved that I asked him to leave.”

Sam snorted. “Please. One more minute in a room with a naked angel and he would have died. How he manages to be such a prude I will never understand.”

Cas smiled peacefully, then grimaced as the sticky stuff pulled against one of his feathers.

“Sorry, Cas. This crap is stuck in like glue.”

“I’m sorry too, Sam. That you had to see them like this.”

“Your wings, you mean?”

“I didn’t want it to go like this.” He grimaced again as another lump pulled at a feather.

“How did you want it to go?” Sam asked, trying to distract him.

“I was- was going to wait for a special occasion. Maybe after a hunt. Then I would have taken you to our room and- _aah!_ ”

“Keep going, baby. Try to ignore what I’m doing.”

“I’d, uh, light candles, I think.”

“You think?”

“I know you like candlelight.”

“I like _you_  in candlelight,” Sam clarified, kissing Cas lightly and taking the distraction as an opportunity to unstick the right wing tip from where it had been bent in on itself. Cas yelped, and then groaned in relief.

“ _Oh_ , that feels better.”

“Tell me what you would have done next.”

“Next?”

“In the bedroom, after the candles.”

“Oh, I would have pushed you onto the bed.”

“Yeah?”

“And then touched your- wait, have I undressed you yet?”

Sam laughed. “No, but don’t stop on my account.”

“No, it’s important to me. I wanted to do it carefully. With my teeth, maybe. I would have taken each layer off like I was Michelangelo revealing the statue inside the marble. I would have done it slow.”

“Not too slow, I hope.” He straightened some newly cleaned feathers, and moved to a new section.

“Slow enough. And _then_ , when you were wearing nothing but what my father made for you, I would push you onto the bed, and take you in my hand.”

“ _God_ , baby, _yes_.”

“I would have taken you up to that highest peak, and kissed you as you neared it.”

“And then?”

“Right when your body tenses - that moment when your eyes go wide - that’s when I would have revealed my wings.”

“Jesus, Cas. While I’m coming?”

“It’s called making an entrance, I believe.”

“What would I have done then?”

“Cower in fear before my glory?” Sam snorted, then kissed his angel on the cheek while carefully reaching a hand below Castiel’s left wing. There was a single feather, one of the big ones at the tip, that had bent backwards and tangled into its neighbours. It would need to be yanked back into position.

“What if I was so awed by your glorious wings that I was immediately hard again?” he asked, moving his hand into a better position on the feather.

“Then I would have taken you in my hand once more, and guided you to my - _AARGH!_ ”

Sam had yanked the feather back into position. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, Cas. Oh, jeez. Sorry, baby, I had to.”

“Sam!” Castiel trembled above him, breathing into his neck.

“I’m all done now, baby. Promise. All done.”

Cas arched slightly. “My grace…”

“It’s back?”

Cas hummed, and his trembling stopped. He relaxed completely, folding onto Sam in one great stretch

“You did a great job, Sam. My wings feel…” he ruffled them, “…sore, but clean.”

The angel spread them out wide, so Sam could finally see them. They were black, and _huge_ , just as he’d thought. And they shone with hidden blues and greys.

“I love them,” he whispered. “And I love you.”

Cas lowered himself back onto Sam’s chest, and let his wings cover them both, so Sam felt as though he was in a gigantic, feathery pillow.

“I only wish I got to hear the rest of your daydream.”

“Not a daydream,” Cas murmured, kissing up the side of Sam’s neck and along his jaw.

“Not a daydream?”

“Well, not for long.”

“But I ruined your plan…”

“Oh well. I’ll just have to wing it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I make no apologies for finishing with a pun. I made it up on the fly.
> 
> For a [prompt](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/115890.html?thread=42326194#t42326194) from October because I'm nothing if not unorganised.


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